The Origins of JT
by Atalanta Pendragonne
Summary: Crossover with Johnny the Homicidal Maniac, TeatimexNny. No matter how cheap it is to rent a room next to the Unseen University, it is never, ever a bargain.


Ankh-Morpork confused Nny. Teatime wasn't always good at explaining things he took for granted that Nny would know. Sometimes Nny wandered alone at night, trying to find his balance in this alien place.

But most of his nights were spent in the little room he rented with Teatime.

The nights were almost unreal. Sometimes they would lie belly-to-belly for hours, just feeling each other's i thereness /i , that unfamiliar sensation of desired closeness. Other nights they presses and squirmed against each other frantically, Nny's fingers digging into Teatime's hips, Teatime's arms draped over Nny's shoulders, both of them shuddering and moaning as the room began to smell of sweat and eagerness. And to both of them it was a source of wonder and fear, wanting someone like this, wanting i this /i .

It was on a night of the second variety that The Thing happened. The reason Teatime and Nny paid so little in rent was that their room butted right against the Unseen University. Nny had no clue as to the implications of this; Teatime just didn't care. It just so happens that in a workroom only a few walls' thickness away, a wizard was attempting to create a homunculus

There have long been attempts to create homunculi. The standard formula involved incubating semen in a vessel of warm manure, or to be more blunt, tossing off repeatedly into a pot of horseshit kept on your hearth. No wizard had yet been able to succeed using this formula.

For reasons that might, perhaps, become clear, i two /i wizards might have been able to manage it.

On this particular evening, the wizard thought he'd solved it for sure. He had unearthed a spell in a dusty old book that claimed to have been a vital part of the homunculus creation process. After, ah, 'feeding' the essential mixture, he fired the spell at it, perhaps a bit too forcefully.

It passed right through the wall.

Eventually the wizard gave up on his project, and used the mixture to fertilize his herb garden. The spell, however...

Teatime and Nny had had another breathless night of writhing and gasping, of fierce kisses in a dark room, of panting and soft cries. Their sheets were, in fact, rather filthy by the time they'd finished, and they changed them, leaving the dirty sheets in the corner to be dealt with later.

While they lay in sated sleep, the wizard's spell hit the filthy sheets, it found what it needed to start the formation of a homunculus.. i two /i sets of genetic material. It began to work, cells dividing at a ridiculously rapid rate.

Although prolonged sex had something of a soporific effect on Nny, he still was an insomniac by nature, and a few hours later he woke to a faint rustling sound from the heaped sheets.

It was a few minutes before he realized a faint sound had roused him. He glanced around, then gave in and lit a candle.

It was then that he saw what was on the piled sheets.

It was a translucent sac of fluid, with something moving inside it. As Nny watched, the sac shivered and tore, spilling a gush of salty-smelling liquid onto the discarded bedding, revealing... an infant.

A burbling newborn, waving its (or, rather, her) fists.

Nny yelped.

When Teatime checked to see what the matter was, he was disconcertingly unfazed. Pointing out the infant's one eye, blue hair, and lack of a navel, he pointed out the little girl was 1) probably magically created and 2) was clearly the product of both of them, and therefore must be their daughter.

When he nonchalantly said weird things i would /i tend to happen so close to the Unseen University, Nny was rather cross at not having been warned. But he (and Teatime) warmed up surprisingly easily to having a daughter. Even if they did have to go to the guild of seamstresses for advice on how to raise a motherless infant (and Nny did his best not to think of how they would know that).

Of course, Teatime and Nny's parenting style... is another story.


End file.
